My Hero
by toadstoolcouch
Summary: Ashamed of being called a coward by Zapp, Fry goes out and tries to do something brave to redeem himself. Based on "War is the H-Word."  Warnings for violence/gore


What the fuck did that Lee guy have that Fry didn't have? Personally, Fry thought his big purple mustache/beard combo looked horrendous, and more than a little fruity. Maybe it was because of jealousy, but he didn't much like Lee at all.

Fry had been nursing an unhealthy and nonsensical crush on Zapp for a while now. It was a gradual thing; at first he realized he felt something other than irritation when he saw him, and somehow that progressed to jerking off thinking about him. He didn't hate him any less, though, and he didn't like that there were so many other emotions involved.

It was easy enough to get over the bi thing, so that wasn't an issue. Not only was it not an issue in the future, but it wasn't an issue to him personally, not after Leela, anyway. Most guys, like Fry, would worry that liking another guy would somehow make him less of a man. Men are supposed to go for creatures more delicate and submissive than they...but that illusion was shattered when he met a woman who was much stronger mentally and physically than he was. He felt embarrassed the first few times he'd clung to her or hid behind her for protection, or gone to her for emotional support, but after a while, as it became obvious that such behavior wasn't demeaning to himself. He loved her for that, too.

He loved the Alpha type. They were exciting, surprising, and made him feel secure. He knew Zapp couldn't be trusted for anything, but the dominant personality he exuded was enough for Fry to feel stupid, primal lust.

And now that he was a soldier, separated from Leela, that stupid lust became an obsession. If only he could just get a glimpse of Leela, to remind himself that he'd rather go after someone he actually loved and respected, and not just wanted. But surrounded by all kinds of men, many of them as pathetic as Zapp liked to say they were, unfortunately their leader of questionable morals held center stage.

Now he was out, alone, trying to make up for his earlier cowardice. In all the time they'd known each other, Fry and Zapp had hardly exchanged enough words to fill up a decent conversation. Of course Zapp would completely judge him for hiding from the enemy earlier; he really didn't know the redhead, and wouldn't have any reason to forgive him. Fry personally didn't judge himself for what he did, but he was humiliated that Zapp knew about it. He had to redeem himself.

He didn't know what he would do, so he just wandered around outside of camp, getting pretty far, as night descended. He was sure the answer would come to him if he was observant enough.

Soon enough, he spotted an abandoned truck, and went for it. Maybe there'd be something in there. Hopefully a sandwich. But when he crawled in, he must have disengaged the parking brake, because it started rolling with him half inside. He wriggled out and managed to throw himself out of harm's way, and watched the truck barrel down the slight hill. Groaning at his bad luck, he started to turn to walk away, but he was too late.

The truck hit a land mine and exploded. The thunderous noise confused him and froze him in his tracks. He didn't even notice at first that large shards that had blown off the truck's body had penetrated him. The force of the blow tossed him to the ground, and his gun flew out of his hands. It didn't accidentally discharge, but probably because Fry could never remember to take the safety off anyway. He could take the gun apart and put it back together, but he was hopeless at firing it.

For a while it was his ears that hurt the most, but soon enough the pain from the rest of his body caught up with him. He clutched at the rocky ground, groaning as he tried to make sense of what happened. He had to force himself to look down and survey his body, terrified that something had been blown off or that he'd see guts hanging out. At first all he could see was blood and tattered uniform. Panting, he twitched his legs and discovered they were both still there. When he wiggled his toes, however, he found that two were missing. Somehow one of his boots had been ripped open, and that added the stench of burning rubber to all the other pungent smells on him.

On that same side was the biggest wound he could find, not that he really had the heart to look. A long, jagged wound snaked from his armpit down past his hip, and it was especially deep around his torso. The extra bit of fat around his middle probably helped save him from disembowelment from a flying truck fragment.

There were numerous other minor wounds and bruises scattered along his body, and his face bled from having been smashed into the ground when he fell. Lying in a pool of his own blood and drowning in the pain that was slowly waking up inside him wasn't what finally broke his nerve. He was still rather disoriented and confused at this point. But when he tried to inspect the wound on his side and saw all the crap embedded in it, shards of metal that he thought he would have to pluck out, that's when he broke into a sobbing, panicking mess.

He fought to control himself, but couldn't stop shaking as he stuck his fingers in to grab a piece of metal, not thinking that maybe he should leave that alone. The pain was intense, but he grit his teeth and tried to get a grip. It was slippery from his blood and a few times he accidentally stabbed himself with his fingers, or he pushed some shards deeper inside. Finally pulling one out only made things worse, and immediately he collapsed on his face and stared into the distance. His heart raced and he felt his skin tingle with numbness, his extremities fading. The pain was a dull ache now.

Not knowing that he was going into shock, Fry struggled against his own weakness to try to get up and head back. He tried to scream, but he could barely breathe in deep enough. The ground melded into the sky, as everything became blurry and dark. He heard himself whimper as if he were hearing it in someone else, and while he thought he was pulling himself along, he was only twitching in place.

Zapp muttered to himself in the back of the small truck as it sped over the terrain. Kif was driving, and there was another cadet sitting next to Zapp. A sentry had let him know that Fry had left on his own a little while earlier. Fry had thought that no one saw him, obviously.

Zapp didn't have to go out and look for his missing, possibly deserting, cadet himself. He could assign any lower ranking officer to do that. But he had a nagging feeling that maybe he should go personally. Maybe find out just what was going through Fry's mind. Maybe that would discourage the others from trying to desert as well, if that was what Fry was doing.

But he knew it wasn't. He had called Fry a coward, but Zapp had seen plenty of real cowards in the military before. Being scared shitless during battle wasn't the same as taking the time to plan desertion. He couldn't pardon Fry, but he at least understood what Fry was doing.

For a moment, Zapp actually felt that maybe he was partly to blame for this. He was rather harsh with Fry, expecting him to act like a seasoned soldier already. Maybe the things he said weren't fair, maybe he was too mean. Maybe it was because of this that Fry could be getting himself in trouble to make up for it.

Really, he just wanted to see Fry for himself. He felt a vague anxiety that maybe he would not be found. True, at the moment Cadet Lemon was filling his thoughts, but the idea of never seeing that whiny voiced slob was a discomforting one.

"Sir!"

Zapp looked up and felt his stomach tighten at the sight. Not that the sight of a dead body was that distressing, he was plenty used to that, but the red hair, reddened with blood, sticking up was what did it. Cursing, Zapp jumped out of the truck that hadn't even stopped yet and ran over to Fry's body, feeling his heart race.

Any other time he'd scoff at feeling so worried about Fry, of all people, but at that moment all he could feel was a sudden loneliness. He dug his bare knees into the ground as he laid Fry flat on his back. His eyes were still open, the lids fluttering, and he had a pulse, however faint. Zapp felt relieved, but focused on what he knew he should do. It really wasn't his job to treat injuries or go out of his way to ensure his men's safety, but he felt compelled to do something now. Of course the medics would fix all this up when they got back to base, but Fry was in shock.

Fry swiveled his eyes to stare at Zapp eerily as Zapp lifted his legs and bent them at the knees so he could loosen his clothes. He recoiled at the wound on his side and even fought the urge to throw up. No way he could do that in front of inferiors. He felt nearly as pale as Fry at the sight of so much blood staining his white gloves and the ground beneath them.

"You...you..." Fry whispered, trying to lift an arm to touch him.

"Quiet, soldier!" Zapp ordered, trying not to look into Fry's eyes. For the most part they were unfocused, but when they found Zapp's eyes, they became suddenly intense. Accusing him, Zapp imagined. He didn't know that Fry was trying to say, "You came for me!" and he mistook Fry's attempt to smile as a scowl.

Trembling a little himself, Zapp leaned close to Fry's ear and pleaded, "I'm sorry." Then he gathered that ruined body into his arms and carried him to the truck. As Fry's blood pressure started to climb to a safer level, he found the strength to wrap one arm around Zapp's shoulders and press his head against him. He moaned at the pain, but his bleeding fingers clutched tightly. The other cadet cringed and pressed himself against the door, as far away from that bleeding mass as possible.

Zapp had watched while the medics treated Fry. They had to sedate him and clean out all the wounds and even give him a transfusion. Artificial toes, just as good as the real thing, were affixed. Fry still looked pitiful by the time they were done. He had been cleared for duty by the medical staff, and Zapp would indeed send him right back to battle in the morning, but he wouldn't tell him personally.

He didn't blame himself for what happened, not really. He knew that Fry had gone out as a result of getting chewed out, but that didn't make Zapp personally responsible. He knew this was true, but he still burned with guilt. It was a repulsive emotion, one he wasn't used to, and he felt a little resentment towards Fry for inspiring it.

His guilt and concern that Fry might not make it through the night led Zapp to sneak to Fry's bedside and squeeze his hand. But he fled as Fry started to open his eyes.

They both acted like nothing happened the next day, but would think of the other the same way ever again.

THE END


End file.
